Saigon Market
Nghiep Ho (right) and Nick Ho (left), second and third generation owners of Saigon Market, respectively
If you’ve shopped at Saigon Market in the last 50 years, you’ve likely interacted with Nghiep Ho, the second generation owner and operator of Findlay Market’s only Asian grocery store. Saigon Market was founded by Nghiep’s parents, Xu and Janet Ho in 1975, the same year they immigrated from Vietnam to the United States, and Nghiep has been working there ever since. “I started here when I was 15. I’m 64 now,” Nghiep laughs. “Next year is going to be our 50th year.”
There weren’t a lot of grocery options for Asian immigrants living in Cincinnati in the 70s, and folks like the Ho family were left with few options to cook meals that felt close to home. “That’s how [Saigon Market] got started,” Nghiep says.
Although Saigon Market was one among few Asian groceries in the city at the time, Nghiep says the selection was nothing compared to what it is today. To restock their shelves, he and his parents would regularly drive a pickup truck to Asian markets in Chicago and fill it to the brim with inventory to sell at Saigon. Many of the beloved Asian and international markets in the Cincinnati region didn’t exist yet, or didn’t develop a robust Asian grocery section until much later. At the time of its opening, Saigon Market was a primary source of Asian pantry staples, and it remains so today.
Nghiep runs Saigon Market largely by himself. He prefers doing things his way, with the exception of a very special pair of helping hands. “I guess I wouldn’t do it if Nick wasn’t here to help me out. He’s been working here for 20 years now. He’s the third generation, and he started his food stand here, too,” Nghiep says.
Much like his father, Nick Ho was practically raised between the shelves of Saigon Market. In his 20s when money was tight, Nick started selling fried rice in front of the shop, a side hustle that was also passed down from father to son. Unbeknownst to Nick at the time, these one-off pop-ups would result in a flourishing business called Chino’s Street Food.
“We started off as Saigon Market Street Food and slowly rebranded into Chino’s,” Nick says. “Chino-Latino [cuisine] is our focus. My partner, Nora, is Hispanic, and we like to incorporate a lot of Hispanic flavors into our food, too, because we feel like the concepts mix well with the food I’m familiar with.”
Nick and Nora started running with the name ‘Chino’s’ about 5 years ago, and they requested to stay close when enrolling in the Findlay Outdoor Market. While they’re set up on the weekends, they can rely on Saigon Market’s facilities instead of bringing their own equipment to their Market stall, and if they run out of ingredients in the middle of service, they can walk across the street and grab what they need right off the shelf. “It happens way more than it probably should,” Nick laughs. “‘Dad, I need to take some fish sauce,’ or, ‘I’m taking some sriracha!’”
In almost five decades of operation, Saigon Market has been an integral source of Asian pantry staples for hundreds of families, no doubt. But most significantly, it has supported the three generations of the Ho family for all this time, not to mention all the memories made along the way. Nghiep not-so-fondly reminisces on the time that Nick drew on the bathroom walls with a marker. Nick expresses how, over the years, certain mundane tasks like bagging spices and rice have moved from his least to his most favorite tasks. Especially now that he owns his own business, settling into a repetitive task can feel meditative in a space that feels so familiar.
Among all the things to love about Saigon Market, Nick mentions the smell in the air that’s been curated over decades. It’s a blend of so many grocery staples—loose leaf tea, heavy sacks of jasmine rice, a wall full of dry spices—as well as decades of memories belonging to the Ho family—fathers teaching their sons how to stock shelves and ring up customers, saying hello to the same mail carrier every day for years, granddaughters’ crayon drawings and school photos pinned to the wall behind the cash register. “There’s something about this place. It’s hard to describe. It’s like a second home,” Nick says.
Published July 2024